Sophia Lambros

Sophie Lambros passed away, peacefully, in her sleep and at home, on June 18. She was 88.

As those who saw her recently could sense, Sophie was not exactly enamored of old age: she was impatient with her failing legs, annoyed with her declining left hand (on which she’d become wholly and sometimes clumsily dependent), and aggravated that her brain far outpaced her ability to speak.

Her frustration was not, perhaps, surprising. Because Sophie, for most of her days, lived large: full of vigor and resolve, energetic nearly to a fault, strong of body and spirit, endlessly curious, sometimes irreverent, always in motion. She inhaled life fully.

Sophia Chokatos was born in Clarksburg, West Virginia to immigrant Greek parents, the first of three children. Her father Nicholas, a proud veteran of World War I, brought his bride— 20 years his junior and without a word of English — to the United States in 1935. For his time, Nick was progressive: he hired a tutor to teach his new wife English, enlisted a “practical nurse” to show her how to cook American food (the fried chicken recipe lives on), ran a successful pool hall and restaurant, and wanted his children to have top-flight American educations.

Sadly, he died of a heart attack when Sophie was just nine — which turned her world upside down. Her mother Marika, still new to the ways (and language) of America and with three young ones under her wing, became ever dependent on Sophie: together, they managed the small family’s investments and made decisions about the younger siblings’ activities. Marika reverted to Greek, so Sophie was her constant translator and face to the world.

 Belts also had to tighten. They walked or took the bus everywhere (a car? well beyond the budget), went out to dinner maybe once a year, and stitched together a life with the Greek Orthodox church and community at its center. Sophie begged her mama for ballet lessons (Marika gave in after pinching some pennies), and worked odd jobs while her better-off friends went to summer camp. 

She did, though, take piano lessons — all good Greek girls played the piano — which jumpstarted a lifelong love for the instrument and music.

Sophie was a blue-ribbon student. Her high school Latin teacher, seeing her potential, recommended she go to nearby Miami of Ohio. (At $150 a semester, the price was right and she could get there by train.) Sophie went sight unseen, thought herself ill-prepared — “I felt like I had hay between my toes” — and thrived. She became a Tri-Delt and made lifelong girlfriends. She majored in music education and learned to play the violin, viola, cello, bass (she had to get on a stool to reach the thing), flute, clarinet, and trombone. She sang solos with the women’s choral society, excelled at home ec (white dresses required), and was chosen, of course, for the mortarboard honor society. She took a job typing notes for an archeology professor, and was especially intrigued by digs in the Yucatán. “I loved every minute of college,” she often recalled. “It was freedom.”

 She met a handsome, skinny Danny Lambros at a Greek wedding her sophomore year, and took a shine to him instantly. Her junior year, they talked of meeting at a Greek convention in St. Louis. He was on the fence, as he’d made other plans — but she, in what was to become something of a pattern, spoke her mind. She sent him a map with a hand-drawn line from Missoula to St. Louis with a note that said, in so many words, “put up or shut up.”

They were engaged four months later. He finished law school, she graduated, they married that June, and honeymooned in Greece (her first time on a plane) with an assortment of relatives in tow. Both agreed that was a near epic miscalculation.

The moment Sophie set foot in Montana, she fell in love with the place. She made lasting, loyal, and magnificent friends and savored being in a University town: Sophie and Dan rarely missed a keynote lecture, took countless Molli classes, were devoted theater, concert, museum, and opera goers, and ardent Griz fans.

 Sophie also took her love of music to the next level here. She served as President of the Symphony Board of Directors, President of the Symphony Women’s Association, supported the String Orchestra of the Rockies from its inception, sat on the Board of the International Choral Festival, and sang (soprano) in the Symphony Chorale for 24 years.

 She was especially keen to support and nurture young musicians — either via scholarships for university students or, for eight years, as Director of the Episcopal Church junior choir. Her love for the hymnal helped her cope with more than a few wayward choristers.

Sophie was a true and steadfast partner to Dan for 65 years: she routinely edited his speeches and emails, chose all his clothes (although both worked for a time at brother-in-law Angelo’s men’s store, Dan was pretty clueless), advised on matters large and small, and took tender care of his parents over the years. She was also a devoted mother to her three girls — shepherding them to countless music lessons, accompanying them on the piano, correcting their grammar and book reports, throwing birthday parties worthy of Martha Stewart.

She was a member (and one-time president) of her beloved As You Like It Club and PEO Chapter H, an active participant in the Cosmos Club, and the backbone of the Greek Orthodox Annunciation Church choir, congregation, and food festivals. Her baklava, many would agree, was unrivaled.

Sophie and Dan traveled far and wide with their dear friends: on bike, at sea, or through the University, they saw much of Western Europe (she well remembers picnics in Provence, the Guernica in Madrid, sailing the Adriatic with a tipsy captain), rode elephants in Egypt, scaled the hilltops of Lisbon, Nova Scotia, and Istanbul, and even saw the inside of a Hong Kong emergency room.

Among Sophie’s many passions, food probably topped the list. She was an artist in the kitchen. Every meal was prepared with care and consideration. When someone was sick or sad, she showed up with homemade muffins or soup. She threw elegant parties of all sizes and varieties — who didn’t look forward to a Sophie dinner? — that were feasts for the eyes, nose, palate, and belly. She wasn’t showy about it: she simply loved to gather friends and family around a beautifully set table for good conversation, fellowship, and cheer. And she knew that artistically prepared and presented food helped create the magic.

For Sophie, food was love — and we will miss her love and spirit for years to come.

Sophie is survived by her daughters Demetra (Michael Duffy), Maria (Michael Kannen), Patricia (Tom Tsagalakis) and grandchildren Nicholas Tsagalakis (Lexi), Maria Sophia Tsagalakis, Niko, Luke, and Jake Duffy, and Daniel Kannen — as well as her sweet great granddaughter, Melina Sophia Tsagalakis. The “Georges” — George, Dorothea, and their extended brood — also meant the world to her.

A Greek Orthodox funeral service will be held on Wednesday, June 25 at 11:00 am at Blessed Trinity, 1475 Eaton St., with reception to follow.

In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made in Sophie’s honor to Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church, 301 South 6th St. W., Missoula, MT 59801.